


The Cold Edge

by Teddog



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Developing Relationship, Language of Flowers, M/M, Post Lostbelt 3, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teddog/pseuds/Teddog
Summary: Dating other servants was strange in peaceful times. Stealing time away together while juggling missions and the threat of the Lostbelts? A pain in the butt.Buried in the singularity’s permafrost were treasures gathered before an ecological disaster ended humanity’s story early. A team is sent to scout for materials as the sun sets on this impossible future.Naturally, only the most stubborn of servants would see this as an opportunity for a date.Happy Valentine's Day!
Relationships: Robin Hood | Archer/Charles-Henri Sanson | Assassin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	The Cold Edge

“I volunteered both of us for a scouting mission.” 

Robin Hood stood over Charles-Henri Sanson, pressing his chest against the man’s chair while resting his hands on the edge of the desk. Nothing spread out on the desk seemed that urgent, despite Sanson’s repeated attempts to ignore Robin over the last several days.

The two men had dated, briefly, only for a week or two. The relationship ended abruptly after they were dismissed during Chaldea’s shutdown. With humanity back in crisis and their services called upon again, another chance had presented itself. 

Or, rather, they  _ would _ have another chance if Sanson started paying attention. 

The Assassin had taken up residence in the medical office since being resummoned to the newly rebuilt Chaldea, trading his black trench coat for a pristine lab coat. The change made Robin do a double take the first time they passed each other in the hallway; the white cloth made Sanson look like a holy man of sorts, although not as jovial as the one from various Robin Hood myths. 

“Could you repeat that please?” Sanson looked up over his shoulder. 

God, he was still trying to ignore him and not even hiding it. Robin leaned his head in closer, bringing his lips up to Sanson’s ear. The Archer’s breath against his neck made Sanson tremble, dropping his pen to the floor. 

“There’s an unstable singularity,” Robin whispered softly. “Some place called Svalbard. Apparently there’s timelines where humans stashed a bunch of stuff there for safekeeping.” 

The interplay of flirting and business backfired. Sanson’s face grew grim as Robin imagined various gears turning in his head. That wasn’t the reaction Robin hoped for; he wanted the cute one where your lover melted down in your arms and realized everything they were missing out on. 

Maybe he had lost his touch since being resummoned? 

“Leadership wants us to seize what resources we can find before the singularity collapses,” Sanson summarized. “How pragmatic.” 

“Look, are you coming with me on the rayshift or not?” Robin pushed himself back so his blunt response wouldn’t blow out Sanson’s ear drums. 

Sanson reached out and touched the tip of Robin’s nose with a single finger. A small smile crossed his face. 

“You could have simply asked me out on a date, Robin.” Sanson’s observations had finally caught up. It had only taken days. 

“Likewise, you’ve only invited me to breakfast once since you came back,” Robin countered, his eyes focused on Sanson’s finger. Biting down on it was tempting. 

“I was resummoned four days ago,” Sanson explained, defensively. “There was a very intense orientation session on the first day. The next three days have involved me covering the medical office since Madam Nightingale hasn’t returned yet.” 

“My point being that I expected a man of your social standing to lead,” Robin said, and then immediately regretted it. He stood up straight as he verbally backpedaled: “Do I look like the person who’s going to lead? You know, comparably? I’m not cut out for this sort of thing.” 

“I view you as a man of respectable intentions.” Sanson looked away, his eyes cast towards the floor. The slight had cut deeper than Robin expected. “Among other things. A sincere man saddled with unfortunate circumstances in life. If you saw me as your ideal partner for both a mission and a date, I would trust your reasoning. I have in the past.”

“There’s a beach we could visit,” Robin said, intentionally dodging Sanson’s prompt to talk more about their relationship. 

“Covered in rocks.” Sanson sighed. “If I’m remembering the details correctly, Svalbard is up in the Arctic. It’s nothing like Luluhawa.” 

Robin shook his head. “Turns out it’s now a tropical climate. The weather in the singularity is permanently busted.” 

“Fascinating.” Sanson then rolled back to his earlier point: “Reports about the weather don’t explain how you feel about me.” 

Robin didn’t have an immediate response to that. He silently stepped aside as Sanson pushed the chair back. Sanson pulled off his lab coat and gently draped it over the back of the chair. His shoulders seemed more slumped than Robin remembered them looking. That could have been the clothing. Sanson’s usual trenchcoat cut an intimidating silhouette, black as the deepest abyss with breathtakingly sharp edges. The new lab coat made him look more approachable. Without either, there was a certain fragile atmosphere to the man. 

“Given this is a date, maybe you can articulate your feelings by the end of the mission,” Sanson said, straightening his shirt sleeves. 

\---

What they found on the scouting mission wasn’t quite the place Robin had expected.

None of Chaldea’s remaining leadership seemed too concerned about any major threats. Humanity wasn’t completely gone from the singularity yet, but the likelihood of bumping into a local was quite low. Svalbard would have been challenging to reach with modern transportation. 

In short, management expected to find the place void of life. 

Oh, how they were wrong. 

The walls surrounding Robin were alive, covered in a lattice of moss and leaves. Robin wasn’t sure how deep the growth was. His best guess was that he could weave his arm through the vines up to his shoulder and his fingertips still wouldn’t be able to touch the stone wall he assumed was there.

Not that he was going to do that. The verdant growth made low, rustling sounds whenever he turned his back on it. Robin wasn’t sure yet if he was a predator or prey in this game. 

One of the treasure troves on the archipelago was a building called The Svalbard Global Seed Vault: a collection of seeds from around the world, stored in a frozen archive in case humans needed a backup for whatever reason. The original staff was long gone. Left alone, the seeds had sprouted into a garden that had taken over the entire building. 

The roof had been ripped apart by branches starving for sunlight, accenting the archive with harsh midday shadows and leaving boulders of concrete in what used to be the aisles. The twisting roots broke up and through the floors. Robin walked around them carefully, as if he were avoiding stepping on someone’s feet. 

More life had been here before the changing climate wiped it out. Some of the floor tiles were shattered and mutilated; nearby roots and trunks shared the scars from the ancient attack. A creature with massive claws and teeth, Robin suspected. The briefing mentioned that monstrous bears called Svalbard home in proper human history. Run one of those through an apocalypse and you’d have a guaranteed nightmare.

Robin glanced back out of the corner of his eye. There was more greenery on the ground now; ill-formed tendrils of vines were grasping at his heels. He definitely was the prey. 

Becoming plant food wasn’t in Robin’s plans. Sanson was waiting for him outside, standing watch while the Archer investigated the building. Plus Robin still owed Sanson a response to “articulate your feelings”, whatever the hell that meant. 

Robin’s first reaction was to draw his crossbow. On further reflection, his lighter was a better weapon.

The metal pocket lighter was easily the most modern piece of gear Robin kept on his person. The technology was surprisingly recent for proper human history, despite its mundane appearance. Countless servants back in the old Chaldea base had asked Robin to show them how it worked.

Maybe the plants had forgotten how dangerously beautiful a captured flame could be too.

“Either you all back down on your own or I force you,” Robin said, holding out the lighter and flicking up an orange flame. It wasn’t clear if the plants could hear or see, but they sensed something had changed. The creeping vines halted, as if calculating their next moves. 

It wasn’t a complete withdrawal. Robin frowned. What a bizarre game of chicken he found himself in. 

If he were dealing with people stalking him, he reassured himself he’d have less empathy for the other side. Such as it was, he was invading the plant’s home turf. He’d get returned to Chaldea grumpy and embarrassed if they outfoxed him. There wasn’t a future for them. It was only a matter of time before the singularity collapsed, taking them with it. 

“I won’t claim to be your saviour,” Robin said, blowing out the flame. “But I can help you find meaning again.”

\---

A tuft of white hair fluttered in the patchy grass. 

Robin squinted, then blinked as he stepped out of the vault. No, Sanson was definitely flopped over. 

There wasn’t time to think before Robin’s survival instincts took over. His legs propelled him forward as his senses went into overdrive. No scent of blood in the air, no pooled liquids he could see from a distance, no visible injuries as he got closer, chest movement seemed normal, no vines wrapped around oh god he didn’t want to think about that.

“R-Robin?!” Sanson’s eyes fluttered open as the pounding footsteps came to a halt above him. 

“Are you okay!?” Robin asked between deep gasps. He was immediately on the ground, kneeling at Sanson’s side. What was someone supposed to do in a moment like this? Take vitals? What did that even mean when you were dealing with a servant? 

“Yes, I’m fine. Just more fatigued than I expected.” Sanson yawned, rubbing his eyes. Robin’s desperation didn’t go unnoticed; Sanson delicately placed a hand on Robin’s arm and glanced over the Archer’s shoulder. “Were you followed?” 

Sanson was exhausted. That made sense. He had been working in the medical office nonstop for days, then was selfishly yanked out on a scouting mission. Even supernatural entities had limits. This whole plan had been foolish.

“No.” Robin said, shaking his head. “I saw you on the ground and I panicked.” 

“I’m sorry.” Sanson squeezed Robin’s arm softly and pulled away. 

Focus, Robin thought to himself. He unclipped his cloak and laid it out on the ground, then carefully pulled out a collection of plant clippings from a pouch. Mixed in with the green were yellow, pink and blue flowers. 

“I have an answer for you about my feelings, I think,” Robin said. 

“Please, share it with me.” Sanson leaned over, watching as Robin sorted through the flowers.

Robin smiled gently to himself as he quickly wove the flowers together into a chain. The anxiety was slowly fading again, replaced with a warmer sensation. Even though the scene had terrified him moments before, not everyone was privileged enough to find the famed  _ Monsieur de Paris _ sleeping in a sunbeam. 

Noting that, the Archer reached out and picked a handful of white flowers growing beside them. Robin gave the floral wreath one last inspection before placing it on Sanson’s head. 

“I know we haven’t been together for a long time,” Robin explained. “But you visited my old room enough to know some of those flowers.” 

Sanson tilted his head and slipped the wreath off. He pointed at the pale pink flowers.

“This is valerian. It’s believed to have a sedative effect. Are you commenting on my nap?”

“No. There’s a whole language for communicating with flowers. Like Thieves' cant, but prettier, I guess.” 

“Like how one can send a simple message with roses by picking specific colours?”

“Yeah, but with a complex bouquet instead of just one type of flower.” Robin tapped a cluster of valerian flowers. “Valerian means accommodation. I want people to accept you. You put up with my bullshit. Makes sense both ways.”

Sanson’s eyes scanned the wreath, inspecting what else Robin had added. “What about the yellow daisies?” 

“Black-eyed Susans. They can mean justice and encouragement. The small blue ones are myosotis. Those are for love and hope.”

“ Forget-me-not is a prettier name than  myosotis ,” Sanson said. Robin could pick up a hint of mild amusement in his voice. “And the white ones you added at the last moment?”

Ah, he noticed. Robin frowned.

“Arctic bell-heather. You’d never find one in those secret message bouquets. A white heather can mean protection and wishes coming true, so let’s go with that. Back when I was alive, I had a wish of becoming a brave knight. The kind of guy who fights for someone or something that they actually believe about. Except, that didn’t happen. ” 

“You weren’t devoted to the town you tried to protect?” Sanson asked. He sounded confused. Robin guessed it was understandable. 

“Not particularly,” Robin said, then paused. “Maybe a bit. I felt the world owed it to them to have an opportunity at happiness. I don’t think they felt the same way in return. Rather, I  _ know  _ they didn’t feel that way.” 

He spared Sanson those gory details for the moment. This didn’t seem to be the right time to rant about how the town eventually sold him out because the bounty on his head was more lucrative than the safety he provided. Maybe he’d do that later tonight over drinks. The expression on Sanson’s face implied that he understood what Robin meant; the scales of their  circumstances were different but the mechanics were eerily similar. 

“Anyway. I found the answer to that wish a while back: find someone who equally undervalued their own happiness and then vow to protect each other.” Robin pulled the wreath out of Sanson’s hands and placed it back on his head. “You’re lucky I don’t have one of those phone things on me.” 

“Master has one if we want a photo together.” Sanson’s bright red face and the floral wreath contrasted with his monochromatic clothing. It was easily the most colour Robin had seen on the man since he had been resummoned.

Robin grinned. “That might be fun.” 


End file.
